


The Legionnaire's Song

by Franavu



Series: Songs of Tamriel [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls
Genre: Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-17
Updated: 2012-04-17
Packaged: 2017-11-03 20:20:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Franavu/pseuds/Franavu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Legate, I heard the news today</i>
  <br/><i>My cohort ordered home</i>
</p>
<p>A lovesong to Skyrim</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Legionnaire's Song

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously shameless theft of Kipling has been going on here. (See "The Roman Centurion's Song")

Legate, I heard the news today  
My cohort ordered home,  
A long march down the Bruma way  
And that by road alone

The companies are stood outside  
The wagons packed also  
I've saddled you a horse to ride,  
Sir, please, command me not to go

I've served in Skyrim all my life  
From Riften to the Reach,  
Buried my son and Nordic Wife  
In this long fight for peace

Before I did not understand,  
But as the hour draws near  
That takes me to my native land,  
I feel that land is here

Here where the icy winter nights  
Change place with frozen days,  
Will you forget the Northern lights  
From old High Hrothgar's base

Or how in spring the flowers bloom  
On Whiterun's golden plains,  
An ale in Bannered Mare's back room  
During long autumn rains

Remember too the summer sun  
Too brief and yet so dear,  
In forest with your horse to run  
On longest day mid-year

You'll march down ancient Silver Road  
To that White Gold Tower's shade,  
Where with ancient pact and blood-sworn oath  
The long Septim rule was laid

You'll go where emperors are made,  
But will you e'er forget  
The scent of Skyrim's Last Seed late,  
Or Deathbells in the wet

Let me work here for Skyrim's sake  
At any task you will,  
A Stormcloack rebel camp to take  
Or Nordic troops to drill

Legate, I come to you in tears  
My cohort ordered - even so,  
Let me stay here my dying years  
Please, Sir, command me not to go


End file.
